To understand this a little further we’ve got to go back to Plato. Yes, him. (In one way or another, everything philosophical goes back to him it seems.) I’ll keep it real brief, one-sentence brief. Plato taught that there are two planes of existence; in the one exists the abstract ideas of which the other holds concrete instances.

Lewis, in this way, sees myth as a “transposition” of an idea in the one plane to an instance in another. In other words, a myth is a concrete expression of an idea (in the Platonic sense). It is more real because the idea flows to the one experiencing the myth as reality without the need for an historical occurrence. In this way truth is communicated not as an abstract idea, but as concrete reality (in the experience of a myth).

So, that a myth is true is not dependent upon any historical occurrence; and at the same time it does not exclude the possibility of historical occurrence. Lewis is attempting to disconnect myth from historical fact, while at the same time connect myth with truth.

So What?

Again it boils down to this question. Why does this matter? Well, you may have begun to quickly perceive the connection that is here with regards to the Bible. Religious writings are always connected in one way or another to some notion of myth. And truth-seekers often consult various religious writings. Lewis’s notion of myth has implications for our understanding of the Bible. My next post will explore some of those implications.

This post is part of a series of posts on C.S. Lewis and his idea of Myth

• Part One – C.S. Lewis and Myth
• Part Two – C.S. Lewis, Myth, and Historical Fact
• Part Three – C.S. Lewis, Myth, and Scripture
• Part Four – C.S. Lewis, Myth, and Truth
• Part Five – C.S. Lewis, Myth, and Christ

Books I Directly Used (they go into more depth):

• In reading his work it’s important to have his understanding in mind.
• The use of “myth” has been used widely in discussions of theology and scriptures
• It has implications for our understanding of fact, truth, and even Christ.

Since we’re talking about C.S. Lewis’s idea, it should be clear that it is not what you would find in a dictionary under the word “myth” (although since he used that term it bears relation).  Lewis himself considered coining a new term for what he was suggesting, but felt that it would be better to use the term myth in a different sense.

So what does it mean?

We find some help in understanding what Lewis means from J.R.R. Tolkien.  In a discussion on the term, he suggested to Lewis that as speech is to objects, myth is to truth.  For instance, the word “tree” is not itself a tree, but rather something we use to refer to a tree.  Similarly, myth is something we use to refer to truth.  Lewis later suggested in his article, “Myth become Fact” that myths allow us to concretely experience that which is only otherwise known as an abstraction.  So, a great myth gives concrete expression to a truth that is an abstract concept.  But what comes to you in experiencing a great myth is not truth, but reality (because truth is about something of which is reality).

Myth is a story that allows one to experience as concrete reality that which when examined is only an abstraction.

Looking Forward

This idea is something that needs to be chewed on like a good meal – long, slowly, and carefully.  In the future, I’ll post some of my thoughts on how this connects with things such as Historical Fact, Scripture, Truth (the absolute kind), and Christ.

This post is part of a series of posts on C.S. Lewis and his idea of Myth

• Part One – C.S. Lewis and Myth
• Part Two – C.S. Lewis, Myth, and Historical Fact
• Part Three – C.S. Lewis, Myth, and Scripture
• Part Four – C.S. Lewis, Myth, and Truth
• Part Five – C.S. Lewis, Myth, and Christ

Books I Directly Used (they go into more depth):

Enough said.

Second, Christians should always remember that the truthfulness and authority of the Bible are not based upon any authority external to the Bible itself. There is no external evidence required to “prove” the Bible’s truthfulness. It stands on its own claim to be the Word of God. Archaeology may sell magazines and make for interesting reading, but it cannot prove nor disprove the Bible.
www.albertmohler.com

for the first two sentences I think to myself, well yeah, of course something’s truthfulness is not based on anything external. But when he says,

It stands on its own claim to be the Word of God

I think he’s got truth and argument mixed up (not that I believe he did this intentionally, perhaps it was an over-site). Just as something’s truth is not based on external arguments, neither is its truth based on internal arguments (i.e. in this case, it’s own claims). It’s truth or falsity simply is. Arguments are not the same as truth nor are they the basis for something’s truth, but that doesn’t mean arguments aren’t useful. On the contrary they are extremely useful because arguments persuade someone of the something’s truth.

So while the truth that the Bible is the Word of God is not dependent on external claims, neither is it dependent on its own internal claims. But we are persuaded of the truth of this claim both by external and internal arguments. I tend to think that to an outsider an internal claim of truth is circular, which is to say that it is valid (logically) but not persuasive. This leaves external claims (valid ones that is) for persuasion.

How the specific claim that the Bible is the Word of God connects with external arguments for or against it’s truth (i.e. from science, history, archaeology, etc) is an import topic, but one for a different post.

Explaining Emergent Churches – Inner Compass from Calvin College on Vimeo.

Prior to post-modernity the answer to this question would have most certainly been grounded in some sort of foundational body of knowledge, whether actual or hypothetical. In other words we would be able to through our senses or mind logically reason our way to a criteria. Historically, Thomas Aquinas asserted that the existence of God was logical and practically self-evident, but most contemporary theologians would not make that same assertion. In absence of this foundation, some assert that our faith is the basis of our knowledge; I believe therefore I know. A sort of “Kierkegaardian leap of faith”, if I may be so bold as to use that phrase, although most likely not the same as something Kierkegaard would have argued for himself. On this basis it seems that many assert that we can know.

I myself remain unconvinced that we do not start our knowing with some sort of body of knowledge. Even the modern hermeneutical problem of individual “presuppositions” forming a “preunderstanding” through which we understand everything (thereby mitigating any idea of knowing truth since we all have different “preunderstandings”) seems to be simply a replacement of the Cartesian ideas and categories by which we gain knowledge (see Thomas Howe’s Objectivity in Biblical Interpretation, page 205). In other words, we know because we have some “preunderstanding” that mediates our knowledge. Faith, then, it seems is not grounded in nothing, but in something. So we are unable to escape the problem of first principles or foundations for knowing.

As the reader is painfully aware, I have not come to any conclusions. Yet I do not walk away from the idea that I can know something and can know something about God. Why? In using the best rational logical ability in light of the evidence I am presented with, I am led to believe that God exists and the Bible is his word to humanity. These arguments are outside the scope of this article, but it is important to note that I believe that every person alive does exactly what I have done, whether intentionally or not. That is to say that we all use our minds and in light of the evidence we see we believe something and live accordingly. No one can do otherwise. Even the skeptic has done this, the skeptic has examined the evidence and chosen to believe that nothing can truly be known and they live accordingly.

So how can we know anything about God then? Well, not supposing to solve the epistemic and ontological questions, we know something about God because of the evidence we have at hand. In other words, through his creation and through his word.

This question has been asked throughout history. It seems that the question must always be asked of each succeeding generation, some agreeing with previous one, others disagreeing. Yet, as the Qohelet says, there is nothing new under the sun.

So let’s start at this question by seeing if we can use our own reasoning and the natural world (sometimes referred to as natural theology or general revelation) to attain knowledge of God. A brief (very brief) historical overview is necessary here.

The early church was divided in how knowledge of God can be obtained. Tertullian contended that philosophy (human reason) has nothing to do with faith (What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?), while Clement of Alexandria argued that philosophy paved the way for Christ (Gunton 2001, 154-157). The Middle Ages seemed more confident in its use of reason. Thomas Aquinas felt that reason alone could prove the existence of God – yet only a few, after a long time and with an intermixture of error, would know God (Gunton 2001, 159-160). Reformer, John Calvin argued that each person held a sense of the divine within themselves, yet knowledge of God through nature is “insufficiently effective,” thus Scripture is necessary (McGrath 2007b, 101; Gunton 2001, 35).  Karl Barth argued that since God self-reveals himself, special revelation was the only way one could know God (McGrath 2007b, 146-147) Hans Kung disagreed, arguing that this view diminished the glory of God in creation (LaCugna 1982, 59-60). Finally, Jurgen Moltmann argued that natural theology gives understanding as opposed to blessedness (i.e. salvation) (2000, 66).

Have we found any answers? While this overview is much too brief to deal adequately with each theologian’s argument, we find that none seem to argue that through our reason and the natural world we can completely understand God. (I have not included here any liberal or process theologians to simplify the discussion, not out of plain disregard for their positions or contributions. Many would argue that there is nothing outside of our reason and the natural world to give us understanding, but that discussion is outside the scope of this post.) Some argue they are of no use, others demonstrate they are extremely useful, but almost no one argues that apart from some divine revelation we can thoroughly know God.

So it seems we can know God partially through our reason and the natural world, from where then do we come to a more fuller understanding of God? We can examine this more fully in part II.

Gunton, Colin E., Stephen R. Holmes, and Murray A. Rae, eds. 2001. The Practice of Theology: A Reader. London: SCM Press.

LaCugna, Catherine Mowry. 1982. The Theological Methodology of Hans Kung. American Academy of Religion Academy Series 39, eds. Carl Raschke and William Gravely. Chico, CA: Scholars Press.

McGrath, Alister E. 2007. The Christian Theology Reader. 4th ed. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers.

Moltmann, Jurgen. 2000. Experiences in Theology: Ways and Forms of Christian Theology. Trans. Margaret Kohl. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press.

First, what does the “Bible alone” mean? For the Bible is never alone, in that an interpretation must always be made. With regard to the general Protestant era (Luther up to the present), we have a variety of ways to interpret the Bible. Do we interpret as Luther did with differentiating between the literal and historical and the spiritual and prophetic? Or do we side with Zwingli and attempt to find a natural sense of Scripture? Or should we use modern rational approach, historical approach, sociological approach, or literary approach? Whichever way one goes, there is always an interpretation of the Bible to go along with the words of the Bible. While unlikely, if the by the “Bible alone,” interpretation of the Bible is to be included, we must then look at the next term: “religion.”

So what of this term? Is by religion meant the works of man to merit the righteousness of God? Or is it meant the structure of the Christian faith that the Protestants have built? Or is it simply the faith of Christ followers? If by “religion” is meant the faith of Christ followers, then to answer our question we still have one more term to examine: “Protestant.”

It is historically plain to see that there is no one “Protestant” faith or religion. If the mainstream Reformation wing is meant, then one can find tradition (as in the traditional method of interpretation), reason (as in the basic human faculty of thinking), and experience (as in theology interpreting our inner experience) all impact the faith of Christ followers. Only in the radical wing of the Protestant reformation do you find a total rejection of tradition.

It seems then the only way Protestants can agree with this statement is to define the Bible alone to include its interpretation, religion to simply mean the faith of Christ followers, and Protestant to mean those denominations derived from the radical wing of the Reformation. Otherwise the Bible alone is not the religion of the Protestants.

Augustine seemed to argue that indeed there was such a common ground. This common ground is our shared experience of frustration with the world. Things ought not to be as they are. We cannot put our finger directly on it, but we know there is something missing. This is summed up with his famous quote, (speaking to God) “You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

Karl Barth, similarly ,points to conscience as that shared experience among all men which brings us to knowledge of the righteousness of God. He argues in the opening of his work The Word of God and The Word of Man that such knowledge cannot come through our reasoning alone, nor can it come by communication from one man to another, but instead it is found seated in the depths of man’s conscience. All men have the experience of conscience, thus it appears (at face value at least) that this experience is common among men and able to give us knowledge of God.

Yet Ludwig Feuerbach’s critique of such an idea of shared experience challenges well this notion. Is this idea of conscience, or frustration and longing for fulfillment simply human awareness of itself and nothing more? Has anyone really spoken about God, or was it simply a projection of our own thoughts and fears?

So does shared experience lead to any common ground upon which we can find knowledge of God? Is this the right starting point for knowledge of God, the wrong starting point, do we need a starting point or can we obtain a starting point? What do you think?